One Wrong Turn
by SilverDrakkon
Summary: Brom’s life as based on what we know of him from the book Eragon. Including the small bits revealed by Angela the herbalist. Only one original character. BromXoc. Rating may change later. Please read and review! Thanks!
1. A Brief Sighting

Chapter 1

**((The only character I own is Amani, all the others belong to CP))**

**((Please review if you read.))**

Brom glanced at the sword in the merchant's hand, but he was only pretending to pay attention. He did not really care about the stout man with his grimy hands and sweat-stained apron. His interest was not in the piece of short flexible steel the man held out to him either. Instead, it was whirling around in his cranium, trying to make sense of what he had heard, or what he thought he'd heard.

_Brom_.

He whirled, not sure what he was expecting to see. But instead there was nothing—no, wait! There! He'd seen it. A brief flash of white, and then it was gone. Could it have been?

"Sir?" Brom ignored the merchant. Thoughts still raced through his mind. Could it have been her? But she was dead; he'd seen it with his own eyes. Shaking his head sadly, he turned back to the man before him, and handed out a few coins. Money was scarce, and the sword was badly made, but his confusion had put him off balance and he found that he could not refuse the man's offer. So he took the sword, gathered his belongings, and returned to his horse. His shoulders drooped with a weight unknown to all but himself, and his eyes watered with a grief only he could bear.

_Flashback_

_Brom walked down the hallway, pressing his hand against random cool stones. Saphira was out, hunting presumably. And he had only free time to kill. He was young, only about 15, roughly a year since he'd been chosen, chosen to uphold the great legacy of the Dragon Riders. He smiled to himself, seeing the battles he'd win, and the honor he might one day accumulate to his name._

_He came to a window. He was in Ura'baen. Tronjheim would send for him in a few days hence, so he was trying to make the best of his time while he had it. His glance took him out the window and in the direction of a pond. There was a rock nearby, where the dragons would sometimes be seen, sunning themselves. However, the creature there now was no dragon. It was a tentative friend of his, Amani. Feeling a bit mischievous, he snuck down the stairs to his left and came out a door just behind the rock. Amani appeared to be sleeping, and very carefully, he crept up, reading himself, hoping he wouldn't laugh and give himself away._

_Amani's back came into view. She was a slender human, with fairly decent proportions, and though she wasn't beautiful, she wasn't plain either. He gathered himself to jump up beside her, waiting just a moment longer—_

Hello Brom.

_He jumped, but not towards the rock. Instead he fell over backwards, tripping over his own feet. He laughed as Amani turned to face him and smiled. A full grin, all teeth visible. Laughing now too, she reached out an arm to help him up onto the rock. Gratefully taking the offered help he hopped up beside her._

_They talked for while, but Amani, he noticed, was fidgeting nervously. As if she had something she wanted to say, but could not. Suddenly, a different, but welcomed voice entered his mind._

Hello little one.

Hello Saphira. Have a good time hunting?

Yes. _She purred. He was sent a mental image of her standing triumphantly over the body, or more correctly, remains of a large buck. He smiled._ Something is bothering you._ It was a question, not a statement._

Well, not me really. Something seems to be bothering Amani, only she wont tell me what.

Tell her about the other day_._ _The other day? he thought to himself. He knew what she meant, but still—_

_"You know," he said, fingers poking at anything they could find. Discussing his own problems made him nervous. "Sometimes I regret being a Rider. I don't really fit in anymore. People, they just treat me like an outside." He sighed and was about to drop his gaze, when he noticed something. Amani was smiling._

_"It's not funny." he said, indignant._

_"No, of course its not. I know exactly what you mean." She paused, but it seemed that her mind was made up about something. "Can I show you something?" He nodded, wonder what in Alagaesia she could be talking about now. Moving away from him, and dropping down by the water so that he was the only one that could see her, she crouched and closed her eyes. Brom waited, feeling that he was on the verge of seeing some important life changing event. And that he did, for suddenly, one of his best friends was no longer human. Instead, staring at him through beautiful, deep golden-yellow eyes, was a wolf._

_End Flashback_

Brom awoke with a start, but found himself safe and still in the saddle. He was coming over a ridge in the mountains, and though still several leagues from Carvahall, he would make it there within the next few days ride.


	2. Memories

Chapter 2

**((again, the only character I own is Amani, all the others belong to CP. Also, just to clear up confusion (I noticed other characters in stories called Amani) my 8th grade science teacher had adopted a wolf and the wolf's name happened to be Amani. I've used it for multiple characters because most of the time, the name fits the "atmosphere" of the RPG/story. So that's that. Also, I picture Brom as Jeremy Irons depicted him in the movie, and though I plan to follow the book, I will describe Brom as he was in the movie.))**

The days had passed into weeks quicker than he had thought possible. He still found his thoughts, when he wasn't able to distract himself, settling on the grief that he could not shake himself of. It was his entire fault, it always was.

He paced the street, there was no one about and the wheel rutted roads were covered with a light crispy snow. Desperately, he searched from something, anything with which he could distract himself, but there was nothing. He felt guilty at trying to avoid thinking of _them_ but the pain still hurt, even after all these years. His knees quivered slightly as a single tear slid down his face. He brushed it off, and his hand left a brown smudge of dye on his cheek.

There was a noise up ahead, and he looked up, concerned that someone might see him, in his 'weakened' state. But there was no one there. His legs gave out, and he remembered one winter, so long ago.

_Flashback_

_He took the stairs two at a time, his breath coming in short gasps. He wasn't out of shape, but his fear and the massive quantity of adrenaline rushing through his veins made is difficult for him to breath. Saphira let out a roar, both vocally and mentally. She sent Brom a mental image of ripping through the stone building, and taking out any creature in her way. Brom reached the top of the flight of stairs. There was a dwarf standing in the hallway, inching farther and farther away from an old battered door._

_"She's in the Argetlam. There's nothing—" Brom waved his hand to silence the dwarf and paused outside the door a moment, preparing himself, and then he turned the knob. The large door swung open silently on its hinges._

_It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim light in the room. He stepped in though, even though he could not see very well, and shut the door behind him. What he saw, when he finally could see, sickened him._

_Amani was crouched against the far wall, in wolf form. Her white fur was stained red in places from blood and her eyes were wild with fear. He thought for a moment that his heart might break. He hadn't told her yet how much he really cared for her. Hadn't asked her what he'd been planning to ask her for so long. Compulsively he moved toward her, but she shrunk back against the wall and cowered. He wanted so badly to reach out and hold her, but instead he sat down where he was. Finally, after what seemed like hours, she crawled towards him, hesitating at first, but then running. He reached out and held her, wrapping his fingers in her fur._

_"It's okay, it's gonna be okay. I promise." He felt her relax against him, and his mind came up with a few extra suggestions, but he shoved them away. This was definitely not the time for that. She shifted, flowing back into her human form, and that was when he got a good look at all the damage._

_She was covered with bruises, and other then some minor cuts, she sported a fairly nasty looking shiner. He noticed, with the revelations of her new injuries that he felt, not increasingly aggrieved, but angry, furiously angry._

_"Who did this to you?" he asked words clipped and cold. But she only shook her head and hugged him tighter._

_End Flashback_

He heard a sound again, but this one was chillingly familiar. He glanced up, breaking the reverie he had sat in. They weren't far, but they _were_ here. He stood up, knees popping in protest. Hurrying now, other worries forgotten, he rounded the corner, and found—

Eragon. That boy was always getting in trouble. But from what he could hear, from the sounds coming from the other ally, he had just bit off more trouble that he could chew. The Ra'zac weren't far away and had maybe even noticed Eragon near by. He stumbled forward, calling out his name. Eragon seemed to be frozen in place, and Brom knew it was possible that they had seen him already. He called again, and let out a sigh as he moved closer and watched Eragon fall to the ground. The Ra'zac must have retreated.

"Are you alright?" he asked. Eragon nodded, and made the excuse of being sick. Brom, thinking fast for an excuse for being in the bowls of the city merely replied that he had been looking for Eragon to ask about the trader. He had his own suspicions about the whole ordeal, but they hadn't really concerned him much. However, now that the Ra'zac were hanging out around in town, it might be worth looking into.


	3. Oh Those Sleepless Nights

Chapter 3

**((Again, sadly I do not own Eragon, or the characters within the book. I only have possession of Amani, and I use her well.**

**Also, Thanks so much to KRM-EditorInChief for writing a review! I love constructive criticism and to tell you the truth, a little encouragement doesn't hurt either. So thanks again, keep reading, and I hope you like it! :D P.S.-Starting this one off with a flashback so as to switch the format around a bit. Don't want anyone getting too comfortable. And a longer chapter this time too! ;) Please R&R! I won't stop even if y'all hate it, but I'd really like to know your thoughts.))**

_Flashback_

_He had been young when he was chosen. Only fourteen. But at that young age he had shown, unapparent to himself, some promise. Whether with skill of blade, or keen of mind, some quality within Brom had caught the notice of an elf. And with that small interest, his life had changed._

_They had explained to his father, a traveling bard that his son could have the chance to be presented to a dragon egg. His father, having heard of, and even met a few Dragon Riders, readily agreed. It was, after all, a way to improve his songs, and in that, a way to improve their living._

_So, Brom and his father had been escorted to the capital, now Ura'baen, where Vrael sat with his dragon. Together they guarded over five dragon eggs. There were other young boys there, and Brom suddenly felt very foolish. He had not the right clothes, background, or status. The others here were the products of royalty and he had nothing to show for his troubles but the bruises he brought home each day. However, his pride would not let him turn back, and he raised his head as he walked up to the stand where the eggs were perched. He touched each in turn, a black one, a red one, a gold one, a green one, and a blue one. They were all beautiful in their own way, each unique; but it was the blue one that really caught his eye. They egg was a dark, almost midnight blue that reminded him of the night sky, or a deep sapphire. He stepped back from the eggs..._

_...and nothing happened. But then again, nothing would. He chided himself silently. It could take days for the eggs to hatch. They would have to stay for awhile, to see what would come of it._

_Brom awoke with a start, a cold sweat dripping down his back. Another nightmare. He sat up in bed and shook his head to clear it of the disturbing images that lingered there. After they began to fade, he decided that it might be safe to sleep again, and laying his head on the pillow, he closed his eyes._

_But he did not sleep. Something kept him awake, and for a reason he could not name, he felt compelled almost, to walk down the great hall and into the room with the dragon eggs. So, curiosity getting the best of him, he pulled on his worn and tattered mantel, for the hall was cold in the nights, and made his way to the hold._

_Everything was deathly silent. Brom was relieved to see that there was no one watching the eggs, but then again, why would there be? The room loomed above him, giving Brom the impression that he would be sucked up at any moment into the vast dark abyss above him that was the ceiling. Shivering slightly, he stepped forward, and once again laid his hand upon the blue egg._

_It was warm! But, surely it had been warm before, the last time he had touched it? _No_, his mind answered, _it was not_. Feeling slightly afraid, he stepped back quickly, but he tripped over the long mantel behind him, and fell, hitting the ground with a hard thump. Instinctively he froze, unsure if he should be out and about in the middle of the night. The last thing he needed was another beating. But the halls were quiet, and he allowed himself to relax. Picking himself up off the ground, he took one last look at the egg—_

_--and froze. It was quivering. Well, maybe not quivering, but definitely shaking. His legs tried to run, but he couldn't move. And then he realized what exactly, was happening. It was hatching. A dragon was _hatching_ for _him_. Of all people, a dragon would hatch for the lowly son of a bard. He could do nothing, but stare in sheer amazement as the young dragon fought with its shell. When it had managed to get its head out, Brom found he could wait no longer. Reaching out with trembling hands he gently pulled the pieces of egg off and away from the young dragon. She reached out with her nose, as if in thanks, and touched him then, lightly on the right hand. Brom pulled away quickly, feeling a jolt, something akin to pain, but he soon placed his hand back. He understood what had happened, just as he now understood that the entire course of his life had been changed. He petted the young dragon on the head, _his_ dragon, and it crooned slightly. He couldn't have said how he knew, but know he did, that the young dragon was female. Before sleep overtook him and he stumbled his way back to his bed with the dragon, he uttered on word aloud, paying no heed to the consequences, if any, it would bring._

_"Saphira"_

_End Flashback_

Brom slept, though his sleep was dark and unrestful. Though he tossed and turned, he couldn't find a comfortable position for more than a few moments. Still, he needed to sleep; he would be getting up in a few hours, and all the energy he could conserve, the better.

Groaning to himself in frustration, he glanced out the window above his bed. The house he lived in in Carvahall was small, and rather unadorned. He had a few things of interest, but most of the items he kept had personal value. Like a small silver dragon pendent he'd worn so much because Amani had given it to him, and Saphira was quite taken with it. There was nothing worth stealing, and the house itself was not what a sane human would deem, respectable. At stated previously, it was small, which suited Brom, but the boards were thin, so the roof and walls leaked every time it rained. And if he started a fire with anything other than magic, the smoke would even seep back in and force him out, in a great black cloud of ash and soot.

There were two windows though. The one above his bed and another one on the wall opposite of the one near his bed. It was a one-room shack. The bed, desk, fireplace, and 'kitchen' were all piled in on top of one another. If he needed to relieve himself in any way, he would be forced to brave the cold until he could find a suitable spot outside. Again, the shack was a pain, but it was cheap.

Brom gazed at the moon for a moment, feeling the light from it wash over his face, relaxing him. Forcing himself to look away, he noticed the exact position of the moon itself and the stars surrounding it. He could just go and forget about getting another hour or two of sleep. It was time to go already. Sitting up, he pulled from under his bed the one and only thing he needed when dealing with the Ra'zac. A blood red sword.

**((Yes, I did say it would be longer, but I didn't want to break the next part up, and if I put it here then it would be too long. Sorry! Hope this chap. works for you all. I'll have the next one up hopefully tomorrow. Also, its been another long horrific day, though this time with too much caffeine, so please excuse the spelling and grammar errors. By all means, feel free to bring them to my notice, just please don't flame me for them. ;; ))**


	4. Confessions and Ambush

Chapter 4

**((The only character I own is Amani, all others, including Brom (sadly) belong to CP.))**

**((Thanks again to for writing another review. Sorry to all that I haven't updated in awhile. I fell asleep the night before and yesterday was spent at Busch Gardens. I promise to update more often; however, I'm going to do the meanest thing I believe a writer can do on here. I'm going to write a cliff hanger, and refuse to write more until I get 5 reviews. It doesn't matter which chapter you review, just that I go from 2 reviews to 7. Until then, I leave all you unspoken writers with a cliffy. :P ))**

Brom crept carefully down the alleys once again, this time, looking for the spot where he had run into Eragon. He lay each foot slowly down on the ground, stepping heel first, and easing onto his toes. If the Ra'zac were still around, even the slightest noises could alert them. He held one arm to his side, holding in place his scabbard and the water skin that was always tide to it. His other hand, the right one, held the red sword, Zar'roc. His fingers about it were careless, and light to the touch, but the joints were rigid, as if he felt utter loathing at the thought of even touching to sword.

Finally, he was there, back where he had seen the young Rider. Crouching, he crept down the other alley, the one that could only bee seen from where Eragon had been, and looked for footprints in the moonlight. This would have been much easier with Amani, he thought, but then felt a sudden pang of guilt at the thought of her. Shoving it away, he turned back to the task at hand, throwing into it, his total concentration.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, but which was only probably five minutes, Brom located the footprints left by the Ra'zac. They were light, and did not sink into the ground as much as he would have hoped, but there they were all the same. Pulling a stick from the ground, he muttered "Brisingr!" and blinked sleepily as the tip of the stick lit up with a dark sapphire flame. His magic was not what it once was when his darling Saphira had been around. Setting off, he stayed low to the ground, and followed the tracks out of Carvahall and out towards Eragon's farm. He waved the fire on the stick out and threw it to the ground. It would do no good to give the Ra'zac a signal before he was there.

He continued to follow the tracks, but he kept to large piles of brush and grass, so as not to be seen just yet. The physical activity of it did tire him, just as using magic did, but he found the idea of being on an adventure again to be somewhat invigorating. In his mind, he rehearsed the things left he needed to do.

He would go to the Ra'zac's camp and see what he could find. Anything there that might give away something, and if that turned up no results, he would wait and surprise them when they returned. Still, what bothered him the most was how they knew Eragon was here? He himself, until only a few hours ago hadn't even known Eragon was, in fact, a Rider. Oh he had guessed, sure, but there had never been any proof until he had seen the gedwëy ignasia plainly on the boys hand. From Eragon's reaction though, he was sure that no one else had yet seen the mark. This meant something else had sent the Ra'zac here for some reason, and in passing they had heard of the mysterious "stone". Brom himself had heard told of it from Merlin, another trader, which between that and Eragon's questions, well, it wasn't too hard to figure out.

Of course, there was always the possibility that they had been looking for a Rider, or Eragon before they came here, but that made no sense either, unless another egg had been stolen from Ura'baen, which was highly unlikely. The Varden would have let him know by then, especially if they suspected it was in his area. Brom paused when he reached the edge of a forest. They were off the beaten path a little ways, but Brom could still see the delicate light of a fire through the dense brush and scattered trees. He moved in slightly, so he say crouched in a bush, and waited for the moon to disappear behind a cloud.

* * *

_Brom sat on Saphira's back, enjoying the feel of the wind in his hair and on his face. He listened to the measured wing beats and felt himself relaxing even more. In a few minutes he would be asleep. He blinked groggily, but refused to put his head down._

Go ahead and sleep little one. _Saphira told him gently. _I will not let you fall._ Brom shook his head, though whether to say no to Saphira's offer or to wake himself up she didn't know. Maybe he just wanted to be left alone. The dark blue dragon turned back to her task at hand, getting her rider and herself safely back to Tronjheim. However, she was wrong. Brom did want to speak._

Saphira?

Yes little one?

I don't...hmmm...I need your help.

Yes? _A hint of amusement flickered through their connection and Brom frowned._

With Amani._ There, it was out. He sighed, relaxing. Speaking of his relationship with Saphira was about as strange as discussing sex with his mother would have been. However, sex was not the topic he really wanted to breach just yet._

I need to know who did that to her, but she wont tell me. _Saphira shook her head, off balancing Brom, and causing him to lunge forward and grip a spike on her neck._

I will not force her to talk to me little one just because she speaks with me as much as you do.

That's not what I...just, if she says something, do you think you could ask?

Why don't you ask?

Because I—well, I have, but she just clams up.

Maybe she doesn't want you to know. _Saphira closed off the conversation, obviously not happy with how things were going. Brom did not speak with her the rest of the flight._

* * *

Brom inched forward, one slow, painful step at a time. He was almost there, but he was not yet close enough to tell if the Ra'zac were there. If so, it would mean several long hours kept hiding in the dirt, waiting for them to leave. His already dirty hands pushed small plants out of his way. He had to move slowly. There was no why that an old man skulking on the forest would ever be mistaken as an animal. Not by the Ra'zac anyway.

Finally, he was close enough to see their fire in earnest. The Ra'zac were not there. He waited, listening, until a count of sixty. There were no strange sounds in the forest, so he crept into their camp. They didn't have much, one tent, the fire of course, and a single horse laden with saddle bags. Not wanting to waste a moment, Brom approached the horse. The animal flattened its ears as Brom stepped forward, and snorted dangerously, but Brom ignored its bluff and spoke to its mind in the ancient language. The horse still looked wary, but it allowed Brom to approach.

Brom searched the saddle bags, but found little of interest. A map, two short swords, and of course, a bottle of seithr oil. There were a few more odds and ends, something that looked remotely like food, but nothing else. Annoyed with finding nothing of interest, Brom left the camp and its warm, but uncomforting fire, and waited at the foot of a tree for the Ra'zac to arrive. When they did he would finally get the last of his revenge.

* * *

_Saphira touched down in the dragon hold and Brom jumped off in one flowing movement. He spun on his heels, avoiding Saphira's gaze and took off her saddle. Setting it down angrily on a post, he left her to her criticism and food and went off in search of a meal himself._

_Brom found he was angry, though not entirely sure why. He knew Saphira was right in what she said, that he himself should ask Amani again instead of enlisting the dragon, but he was still angry. He knew Amani would tell Saphira, and her unwillingness to help him just fed the helpless feelings that invaded his mind._

_His anger surged through him, feeding his energy like the wind would a fire. He kicked every stone on the way down to his spare room. He would not sleep with Saphira tonight. He tried the doorknob to his room, but it was stuck and wouldn't open. Furious now, he raised his palm and yelled at the door._

_"Jierda!" His palm glowed and the door exploded, shattering inward, wood chips flying all over his room._

Brom! _He ignored Saphira's reprimanding tone and blocked her from his mind. Stomping across the room he raised his hand again and muttering a few more words, watched as the wood chips flew off his bed. Once they were off, he flung himself on the bed and lay there, back to the doorway, a few silvery tears sliding down his face._

_He awoke a few hours later, feeling stupid for his fit earlier. He called for Saphira, but she didn't answer. Most likely, she was sleeping, or out hunting again. He moved to roll over, but felt something behind him on the bed. Instinctively he froze, every muscle in his body tensed and ready for a fight. A soft hand brushed through his hair and he turned his head. They eyes he looked up into were soft and golden. It was Amani. She was sitting next to him and, to Brom's dismay; it looked as if she had been crying. He pushed himself up on the bed and sat up next to her. She smiled at him._

_"Saphira asked me to come. She said you might need some help, but when I got here, you were already asleep." Brom smiled back at her and placed a hand on the side of her face. Most of her bruises were gone. There were only a few left, and they had faded enough that they were impossible to see except in full sunlight. He sighed._

_"I just feel, helpless I guess. Something terrible happened to you, and there's nothing I can do about it. It—bothers me." His voice weakened and trailed off. Her eyes met his and he couldn't help but feel emboldened. He leaned forward, no longer feeling entirely in control, or entirely sane, and kissed Amani. It was a gentle kiss, and timid, catching her completely off guard. As suddenly as he had moved though, he pulled back as though ashamed, and waited for harsh words, or a slap. Instead, what happened next nearly cut him to the core._

_He looked at Amani's face, fearing rejection. Instead, he saw tears; she was crying. He moved instinctively towards her, and she turned her head, muttering three words so softly that he almost didn't hear._

_"It was Morzan."_

* * *

Brom froze, listening carefully. He had just heard movement on the other side of the clearing. The Ra'zac were coming back! It was perfect, just as he had planned. He could kill the Ra'zac now, and if that failed, at least the fight with him might distract them from Eragon long enough for him to get somewhere safe. He readied for an attack.

Just then, the Ra'zac came up behind him, swords brandished, hissing wildly. Brom turned, but tripped over a tree root. Still, he was back up and fighting, will all of his skill. The sweat poured off him, and his arms eventually began to shake. His thoughts flickered off the battle and to Saphira, and Amani. He began to struggle to hold his own against the two of them. Suddenly, one of them stepped back quickly, and just as he lunged, something hard came crashing down on his head. Brom fell to the ground, tasting dirt and blood, and then everything went dark.

**((Well, kind of a cliffy. If you read the book, then I guess you already know what happens, though I could always add some extra stuff in there. :P And yes, finally, a longer chapter. I've been working on this stupid thing for the better part of 2 hours, so I hope you all like it. Honestly though, no more until I get at least 5 reviews.))**


	5. Who to Trust?

((Alright, here's the finished version of chapter 5. I'm sorry it took so long. Then end of school and moving was hectic and took controll over most of my life. The good news is, I now have time to write. The bad news is, putting chapters up has become...difficult. So, I will continue to write, but no new chapters will go up for awhile. Please don't forget about the story, it will be updated. Probably started near the end of June, the beginning of july. Thanks again for the reviews and support/encouragement!!))

Chapter 5

Brom awoke slowly and painfully. His teeth chewed grit as he tested his muscles, making sure everything was in place. It was. He began to clench and relax the muscles in his forehead, but stopped when a nausea-inductive pain began to throb in his temples. It was at that moment, that everything from the night before came back to him. The search for the Ra'zac, searching their camp, the fight, and then...nothing.

He sat up slowly. It was late in the day; he had been out cold for at least 10 hours. He felt tired, hurt, and frustrated. He had failed again. _Been laying here on my ass while anything could have happened._ He got to his feet, he had to find Eragon.

The leaves that littered the ground in the forest were soaked and rotting. They muted his footsteps, but they bothered his allergies as well. Walking lightly and as quickly as he could he headed out of the woods. He was not far from Eragon's farm, maybe only a league or so, and there was still a chance he could get there before the Ra'zac. Maybe his distraction had worked, but then, why had the left him there when they could have so easily killed him?

He found the road where he had left it, and clambered up on to it with a grace most would not have expected of a man of his age. Old he was, and his heart ached at the though of all he had seen and done, but still, he showed no signs of aging, or dying. He began to meander down the road, heading for Eragon's, staggering slightly since the wound in his head was open and bleeding again, and the loss of blood made him horrifically dizzy.

There had been a time once when he didn't think he could live another day. Everything had beaten down on him so hard. The betrayals, the deaths that rested on his hands, all of it. He had made an attempt, once, but of course, he had turned back, somewhat scared of what he had almost done, and there was the nagging little thought in the back of his head that kept him holding on. However, without his dragon and mate, sometimes he found life hardly worth living.

He looked up, for no particular reason, and saw a huge black cloud of smoke rising above the tree-tops. Eragon.

"Eragon!" He yelled hoarsely, though none heard him but the wind. He began a rather hurried, but hobbled run. He mind spun with the bumpy movements, and he knew he'd have one hell of a headache when this was all over. Slowly, the bleeding did stop, and clotted and dried in his hair. He was glad Amani could not see him now, what an awful mess he must look. The road was thinning slightly, though the ruts cuts into it by the wagons and the trades who brought them only grew deeper. Brom tripped several times in his hurry, having trouble keeping his balance. He spent most of the time watching the road, but on occasions, but glanced up ahead of him. He felt the ground tremor, and paused. Could it really be? He shook his head and continued forward, glancing up at more frequent intervals.

He glanced up, and paused to rest when he noticed a moving blur up ahead. It was Eragon! A sudden thought struck his mind, sending him reeling. The Ra'zac could still nearby. Brom took off, running as fast as he could, his breathing haggard and sharp. He yelled, and waved his arms, trying to get the boy's attention, but he appeared to be in a haze, and didn't respond. Finally he reached Eragon, and gripping his shoulders, began to yell at him, warning him of the danger he had so narrowly missed. But Eragon only blinked and blacked out.

Brom stood there for a moment, surveying the situation, and musing about what to do. Eragon had carried, though not far on his own, judging by the tremors that had raced through the earth earlier, his uncle Garrow thus far. Both were in no condition to walk, and Brom knew he couldn't just leave them there, unconscious. There seemed to be only one way out of this situation.

Being careful not to cause further harm to either person, Brom carefully lifted Eragon and placed him slightly on top of his uncle. Then, grabbing hold of the leather, he himself began to pull. It took several minutes, and a hard search for solid ground before he was able to gain any momentum, but the litter was not entirely useless, and at time past, little by little, it became easier for him to pull both Eragon and Garrow along. However, not for the first time, he desperately wished for the comfort and companionship of his dragon.

* * *

_Brom sat up in the dragon hold, pouting more or less. His cloak was drawn tight around him to keep out the cold, and he was stripped of all his weaponry to make sitting a bit more feasible. Saphira sat close by him, cleaning her large claws with a combination of her eye teeth and tongue. Brom picked at a few small loose stones and scattered them about aimlessly, chucking a roundish one at his dragon's tail when it passed by. Saphira growled playfully, and made a show of stretching out her front toes and wriggling her claws at him. She smiled a bit, showing off her teeth as well, but Brom only glanced at her and then back at the tiny pebbles._

You should talk to her. _Saphira stated. It was simple. And he knew he should, but some things were just too hard to accept._

I have_. He lied. Well, not really. He actually had spoken with _her_, but not since she admitted to who did the deed. _But it just doesn't make any sense! I mean, Morzan's my friend, one of the best friends I've ever had. He would never do something like that. Never!

You never know little one. I do not trust him farther than I can throw him.

You must be pretty weak then, _Brom remarked dryly._ I just don't—it doesn't make sense to me. Maybe she's lying.

Nonsense! Amani would never do such a thing.

Oh of course, rush to her defense. You always do. Might as well let _her_ be your Rider.

Brom!

I'm only stating the truth. _He threw a look at Saphira, but turned away at the sight of her piercing blue eyes. Sometimes he felt like she could see right through him._

Our conversations are open. You only need join in.

Whatever. _Saphira stopped in her cleaning to look at her Rider. He was weary; you could see it in every outline in his face. The boy just stressed too much._

She could have though. She's had plenty of time to think. Maybe that's why she didn't tell me before.

Brom. She didn't tell you because she knew it would upset you.

But I asked Morzan, and he said—

Pah! Do you really think he'd admit it?

Well...no, I guess not. _Saphira withdrew from their contact for a moment, thinking. Her next question quite startled Brom._

Do you love her?

What?!

Do you love her?

Um...well, I dunno...

It's simple Brom. Answer the question.

Yes?

Then trust her. Trust her, trust me, and be happy that you have that. _Brom turned away, still unsatisfied with the conversation. Knowing Saphira was right, and hating her for it, he grabbed a handful of the small stones, and sent them out the window, one by one, hoping the use of magic would steady his nerves. It didn't. That left only one thing._

Hey Saphira?

Yes Brom?

Let's go flying.

* * *

Brom looked ahead once again, wondering if he would ever reach Carvahall. There seemed to be nothing he could do. Well, nothing he could change. He couldn't drag the contraption any faster, and he couldn't just leave the boy to get help. Worst of all was knowing that it was _his_ fault that he was in this mess to begin with. If only he had gotten to the Ra'zac earlier, or warned Eragon. He had been stupid to think he could hold them off. Saphira would be laughing at him now, if only she knew.

He blinked, hard, and raised a dirt covered hand to wipe the sweat from his face. When he looked up again, his heart began to beat a little faster. He could just see the rooftops of the town. He couldn't be farther than a mile or two now. However, his old age really was beginning to catch up with him, and he knew that he _had_ to rest. Well, rest or continue on without the two people he was so messily dragging. Leaving them might save time in the long run, and he wasn't too far from Carvahall now, so he'd be back with help before anything happened. Looking off the road, he spotted a dense clump of grass. Carefully, he dragged Eragon and his uncle, Garrow, to the grassy lump and was sure to cover them. Satisfied with his work, he stepped back and viewed his 'creation'. Truly enough they looked only to be an extension of the bump in the ground. Well, almost, but it would have to do. Then Brom turned inward with his mind, and scanned the area. He felt no other minds, well, none other than his own and those of animals. With that, he took off, running as fast as his old, tried, and harassed legs would carry him.

It didn't take him long to reach town and finding people concerned and trustworthy enough to help wasn't too hard either. He immediately turned to Horst and Katrina. Horst was able to find a few other men. Brom left them to find the 'doctor' but returned to meet up with the small group before they reached the road. He quickly located the spot where he had left Eragon and the men set about bringing the boy and his uncle to Horst's house.

It was more difficult and taxing than it appeared to Brom, and he didn't really notice how exhausted he was until he made it back to his own warm bed. His head hit the pillow before he had time to realize that his wound was bleeding again, and he fell asleep forcefully and immediately. His sleep was dreamless and restful, he did not wake again until morning.


End file.
